Acceptable Compromise
by The Pale Bride
Summary: Fushimi would rather be ignored than showered with presents on his birthday - but Munakata has a knack for making himself the exception to all kinds of rules.


It isn't the alarm that wakes Saruhiko up; the gentle chimes that Munakata prefers aren't so loud or obnoxious that Saruhiko can't ignore them. What wakes him is the movement beside him as Munakata carefully frees himself from Saruhiko's grasp, and the sudden chill as Munakata throws back the covers. Saruhiko immediately grabs them back and curls in on himself, clutching the blankets now instead of Munakata's yukata.

It feels like the cooler weather snuck up without warning this year, making the thought of getting out of bed even less appealing than usual. He's already shivering from that brief, unpleasant moment without the blankets.

"Fushimi-kun..."

"I'm _awake_," Saruhiko protests. "Not my fault your room's so damn cold."

"Oh? Is it that cold?"

Saruhiko can hear the laughter in Munakata's voice, feel the bed shift again as he leans down to kiss the top of Saruhiko's head. It's entirely too early for this kind of lovey-dovey bullshit. Saruhiko elbows him away, then reluctantly reaches one arm out from under the covers to grab his glasses. He'd love to sleep in just a little longer - but there's no point in trying if Munakata is just going to pester him until he gets out of bed.

"Good mor -"

He doesn't get a chance to finish; as soon as he's mostly upright Munakata kisses him again, on the forehead this time, and Saruhiko loses his train of thought. This is just a little more affectionate than Munakata usually gets this early in the morning. Not that he's not used to Munakata defying his expectations at each and every turn, but...

"What're you being so _cute_ for?" he asks, shoving Munakata to arm's length so he can get his glasses on. The room, and Munakata's serene smile, snap into sharper focus.

"I wasn't aware I needed a reason. But since you asked..." He reaches out to straighten Saruhiko's glasses, brush his bangs to one side, and Saruhiko finds himself tipping his face into the touch and letting his eyes drift closed. Munakata's skin is warm – warmer than Saruhiko's, at any rate, and it feels nice right now. He's going to fall back asleep if Munakata doesn't knock it off –

"Happy birthday," Munakata says, and drifting back to sleep immediately ceases to be a possibility, because his body's suddenly a lot more invested in freaking the hell out.

Being cold is the least of his problems now; he's sick to his stomach, and there's a miserable, suffocating weight on his chest that makes it hard to take a full breath. It's a sensation an awful lot like panic, except without any actual threat to be reacting to. (He's probably safer with present company than he would be just about anywhere else, in fact.) But knowing, intellectually, that he's being ridiculous doesn't make the feeling go away.

Munakata isn't going to ridicule him, or do... any of a whole lot of other things he _really_ doesn't want to remember, but he's still, instinctively, afraid that he _might,_ and so reacts accordingly.

He's pretty sure most people's birthdays don't come with quite this much baggage attached.

"Fushimi-kun?"

The obvious concern in Munakata's voice only makes him feel worse. Overreacting like this is bad enough, but trying to _explain_ it – "_Don't_," he snaps, jerking back and slamming his elbow against the headboard in his haste to get out of touching range. As if he didn't feel ridiculous enough already.

He's not entirely sure what he so adamantly wants Munakata not to do, but whatever it is, Munakata refrains from doing it. They sit in silence until Saruhiko's heart rate slows to something reasonable and he remembers how to breathe.

"I don't like birthdays," he finally says. It's kind of redundant at this point, but it's the most he's willing to share – even with the guy whose bed he's been sleeping in, the guy who he had pretty spectacular sex with the night before. Any kind of intimacy at all is still shaky, unfamiliar ground, and some kinds Saruhiko is a lot more comfortable with than others.

_Doing_ has always been easier than _talking_.

–

_My apologies for what happened this morning._

_Should we really be discussing this on the clock, captain?_

_Such diligence! I will be brief, then, so that you may return to your work: Were I to invite you out to dinner tonight, in celebration of absolutely nothing in particular, would you find that acceptable?_

_You already made reservations, didn't you._

_Reservations can be canceled, Fushimi-kun. I only desire your company if you are comfortable giving it._

_Well, I am. It's fine. Now stop emailing me at work._

–

Dinner _is_ fine. _Nice_, even. True to his word, Munakata doesn't mention the occasion they're deliberately avoiding celebrating – and it really is nice to spend time with him without work playing third wheel. Being a Clansman isn't really something that can be put aside for an evening (...being a King even less so, Saruhiko guesses), but getting some distance between himself and SCEPTER 4 headquarters is an acceptable second best.

They make small talk about movies they've both been too busy to see, headlines neither of them played a part in, and for a while Saruhiko even forgets that it's his birthday.

Which surprises him, when he realizes what he hasn't been thinking about. Usually he spends the day desperately wishing for it to be over, but... this evening's been different. Because he's been distracted, probably. Or because instead of demanding to know why he's not excited, Munakata seems to have simply accepted that he's not.

Maybe it's that acceptance that finally coaxes Saruhiko into bringing up the subject they've both been so carefully avoiding – or maybe it's just the wine he had with dinner. He's not really sure, but it's definitely the wine that's left him not particularly inclined to care. "I really do hate birthdays," he says, either way, on the train back to the dorm. "They... remind me of being a kid, I guess. Which I'd rather not remember."

Munakata's arm tightens a little around his waist, pulls him just a little closer. "I truly am sorry to have upset you."

Saruhiko elbows him in the ribs. "I _know_. You don't have to keep apologizing."

"My apologies."

The good-natured bickering, Munakata's arm around his waist, the warm, pleasant glow from the wine; Saruhiko thinks he wouldn't mind if this moment just stretched on forever. He's ...content, which is such a rarity for him that it takes a second to match a word to the feeling. It's his birthday, and he's _content_.

He doesn't know how to thank someone for a present like that, so he settles for resting his head against Munakata's shoulder, and letting Munakata's presence and the movement of the train lull him to sleep.


End file.
